et back now," John said. "Good-bye, Henry. I don't suppose I
shall ever see you again. If we lose, you and your friends can come and
try your way. I've always wanted to die for Ireland ever since I was
able to understand anything about my country, and I shall get my wish
soon. Good-bye, Henry!"

"Good-bye, John!"

"I hope you and your wife will be very happy!" He made a wry smile, as
he went on. "I'm afraid you won't be able to get to England just as soon
as you wished. If you'd gone when I asked you to go!..."

"I must get back now," he said again.

"Yes, John!"

"I'm glad I saw you. I wondered last night where you were...."

"And I wondered where you were."

"I was here. I've been here since Monday morning!"

He moved a few steps away, and then turned back.

"I've always liked you, Henry," he said, taking Henry's hand in his,
"even when you made me angry. I wish you were on our side...."

"I see no sense in this sort of thing, John!"

"I know you don't. And perhaps there isn't any sense in it, but that may
not matter. It's something, isn't it, to find men still willing to die
for their ideals, even when they know they haven't a chance of success?
The Post Office is full of young boys, who want nothing better than to
die for Ireland. Well, that's something, isn't it, in these times when
most of our people aren't willing to do anything but make money?
Good-bye again!"

He went back to the Post Office, very erect and very proud and very
resolute.

"By God," said Henry to himself, "I wish I had the heart to feel what he
feels!"

7

He was sitting in the smoking-room of the Club, trying to write. He had
written to Mary earlier in the evening, assuring her of his welfare, and
Driffield, a Treasury official, who had come into the Club for a few
moments, had offered to try and get it put into the special mail "pouch"
which was sent from the Castle every day to London. "You mustn't say
anything about the Rebellion," he said. "Just say you're all right. I
can't promise that it'll go off, but I'll do my best!" The restless,
excited feeling which had possessed him since the beginning of the
rebellion still held him, and he was unable to continue at anything for
long. All day he had wandered about the city, learning more of its
backways than he had ever known before. He had penetrated more deeply
into the slums than he had done when he had explored them with Gilbert
Farlow, and it seemed to him that there was